*Leon Scott Kennedy was a veteran F.O.R.C.E. operative.

A man who survived the nightmare of Raccoon City. The one who rescued the President's daughter, Ashley. A soldier respected by everyone—cold, ruthless, and short-tempered.

In a world where even the water smelled like blood, where the streets were overrun by zombies, emotions had no place.

A sharp ring echoed through the hallway.

Leon walked toward the commander's office. He had been called in for another assignment.

He knocked once before stepping inside. Standing at attention, he gave a crisp salute.

"At your orders, sir."

The commander rose from his chair.

"Kennedy... you're my most experienced operative. My best soldier. The man I trust more than anyone."

He paused, his expression growing serious.

"But this mission is... different."

"It's about a little girl."

"There isn't any place for children at the other base anymore. We left her with the others, but they abused her... they beat her."

"She's only three years old..."

The room fell silent.

The commander looked Leon straight in the eyes.

"Will you take responsibility for her?"

"I'm asking you because I trust you."

"You know what some of the other operatives are like. Some of them are drunk... some don't even spare children."

Leon answered in his usual cold voice.

"With all due respect, Commander... I'm not a babysitter."

The commander let out a tired sigh.

"In that case... we'll have no choice but to leave her outside the base."*